


Next to Your Heart

by failing_gloriously



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-24 14:29:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failing_gloriously/pseuds/failing_gloriously
Summary: A series of short stories about Carol and Therese navigating their life together in the years after the events of the movie/book.They're stand alone so I don't think it's necessary to read each chapter, but they will all follow my same headcanon.





	1. Next to Your Heart

**Autumn, 1953**

    Therese scowled at the back of the man's head in front of her. She loathed everything from the dark, greased hair streaked with grey that was peeking out from under his hat, to the subtle checked pattern on his charcoal overcoat, all the way down to the soles of his highly polished black leather shoes. This whole thing was completely ridiculous. She could have very easily carried their packages to the car just fine herself.

    There wasn't enough room on the sidewalk for more than two people to walk beside each other, so Therese was forced to follow a few paces behind like a dutiful little puppy. She watched as the man gesticulated animatedly with his free hand. What was he saying? Something about bridges? Brigades? She couldn't hear him properly, only able to catch a few sporadic and broken words.   

    Carol was nodding along politely beside him as he went on with whatever undoubtedly _captivating_ tale he'd chosen to impress her with. The man let out a booming laugh which Carol did not appear to return. She quickly glanced over her shoulder at Therese and they locked eyes for a brief moment. Carol flashed and apologetic grimace.

 

    Therese had come with Carol to her favorite used book store that afternoon for some much needed reading material. Ever since the crisp autumn frosts had overtaken the last of the summer breezes, rusting the Central Park foliage and turning the sky a steely, slate grey, she and Carol had been spending a great deal of time curled up together under blankets, sipping warming drinks, and reading in peaceful, contented silence.

    They had whiled away this chilly Sunday morning doing just that. Carol had woken early in her usual fashion, she always rose before Therese, and brought them a tray laden with coffee, fruit, and toast, before crawling back into the warmth of the bed and snuggling up beside Therese. They stayed in their pajamas all morning, playing footsie under the covers, and occasionally sharing aloud funny or interesting passages from their books. When Therese finally finished the mystery novel she'd been working on for the last week, she had closed it with a heavy sigh and flung it onto the nightstand.

    "What's the matter, darling?" asked Carol without lifting her eyes from her own book. "The murderer wasn't the gardener's daughter after all?" Carol knew Therese placed great store in her ability to solve each mystery before reaching the end of the book.

    Therese sat up in bed and hugged her knees to her chest. "No, it was her. But now I'm all out of things to read."

    "Didn't you just get new books?"

    "That was almost two months ago. I've finished them all."

    "Well then," said Carol, and she took the delicate silver bookmark from her own nightstand and carefully slid it between the pages she was reading.

    Unlike Carol, Therese never used bookmarks; at most she might mark her spot with an odd scrap of paper, if there was one was handy. It wasn't hard to tell whose books were whose on the shelves in the living room. The dog-eared corners and cracked spines of Therese's books were clearly distinguishable from the pristine pages of Carol's, books many of which looked almost as if they had never been opened.

    Carol set her book aside and scooted across the bed until she was positioned behind Therese. She slipped her arms around Therese's waste and pulled her back, flush against her own chest, then lowered her lips close to the side of brunette's head. Her soft, warm breathe tickled Therese's ear. "We'll just have to figure out something else to do in bed now, won't we?" Her voice was low and sultry, just barely above a hush. She ran her fingers along the nape of Therese's neck, gently brushing aside the dark locks, and placed a kiss there.  

    Therese closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.  She relaxed into Carol, enjoying the warmth against her back, the security of being wrapped in her arms, and the feeling of Carol's lips on her neck. She realized Carol's hands had found the top button of her pajama top and were working it loose.

    "Carol," Therese murmured.

    "Hmmm?" Carol hummed, her lips still against Therese's flesh. The second button was undone.

    "Carol, hold on."

    Third button.

    Therese finally put her own hands over Carol's, which had nearly finished their work on her pajama top, and stilled them. She wriggled around in Carol's arms so she could see her face. "Let's go get books first."

    Carol raised an eyebrow. "Darling. We do need to work on your bedroom talk." With two fingers under Therese's chin, she guided their lips together.

    It took all of Therese's willpower to break the kiss. She pulled away from Carol and looked into the blue eyes which glittered hungrily. _God, she was hard to say no to._ "Listen, if we keep going now, we'll never leave this bed today."

    Carol leaned forward and swiftly undid the final button on Therese's pajamas. She looked up at Therese through her long lashes. "I'm not sure I see what the problem is."

    "Because," Therese giggled, "I need new books and if we don't go now, I'll have to wait a whole week before I have a chance to go again." She gave Carol a light kiss on the nose, and then rolled away to the end of the bed where she would be out of reach of those determined hands. "It'll be good for us to get some fresh air anyway, we haven't left the apartment all weekend."

    Carol pushed out her lips in a brooding pout, and fell back onto the pillows. She watched silently as Therese got up from the bed and started pulling out clothes from the dresser. "Alright," Carol said finally, propping herself up on an elbow, "we'll go now to get your books. _But_... afterwards, I get to pick the next activity for today." She drummed her fingers on the spot in the bed Therese had just vacated. "Deal?"

    "Absolutely."

    Therese was now wishing she had chosen to just stay in bed with Carol. What were books, when at this very moment she could've been wrapped tightly around Carol and putting her lips to every glorious inch of her; when she could've had Carol all to herself. Instead, she was trudging solemnly along three feet behind Carol, and forced to watch while another man flirted with her.

    Of course, she didn't blame Carol. The same air of timeless beauty and graceful confidence that had left Therese spellbound upon that very first meeting at Frankenberg's was not often missed by the many gentlemen of New York City who were constantly on the prowl for a gorgeous woman. Nor would Therese have expected it to be; Carol was a shining star by any standard.

    Therese did also get her own fair share of admirers. However, she found these younger men, with their juvenile charms and trite flirtations, to be far less trying than the suave, experienced businessmen who so often pursued Carol. The men in their twenties were just like flocks of seagulls at the beach. They came in abundance, and swarmed around haphazardly, each just hoping for a bite of something, anything; but they could also be shaken off and shooed away fairly easily. The older gentlemen, on the other hand, strutted about like peacocks, offering flashy displays and demanding attention. Once they had zeroed in on a prize hen, they were not so easily deterred.

    This man was certainly a peacock if Therese ever saw one. When they finally reached the car, he made a grand show of taking Carol's hand to help her off the curb. Why was it, Therese wondered, that some men always went around treating women as if they were so incredibly delicate, that they couldn't even make it six inches without falling flat on their faces? Carol wasn't even wearing a dress or skirt this afternoon, and Therese had never seen her so much as stumble in her heels. The gentleman also followed Carol around to the side of the car so he could open the door for her- another ridiculous gesture as Carol still had to unlock the car door herself anyhow.

    Carol gave him a wide, superficial smile as she slid into the driver's seat, which he seemed to take for genuine thanks. "Well you've been very kind, Mr. Williamson," she said. Carol shut her door and he leaned down to look in the window.

    "Oh it was my pleasure. And please, call me Arthur," he winked.

    Therese turned her head away to roll her eyes.

    "Arthur," Carol nodded, and she started the car.

    The two women stared expectantly at Mr. Williamson. He just stood there, grinning back at Carol absurdly. Carol gently cleared her throat, but Therese cut across her, "Uh, Mr. Williams, was it? You've still got our packages."

    "Oh! Uh yes... er William _son_ actually... here you are." He shook his head and handed the two stacks of books, which were wrapped in brown paper and tied up with twine, through the open window. Then he looked back to Carol and offered up one more dazzling smile. "I do hope we cross paths again Miss Aird."

    Carol raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him in a small farewell wave.

    He crossed in front of their car to get back on the curb and Therese couldn't help but call out her window as they pulled away, "Goodbye, Mr. Wilkinson!"

    She watched his reflection in the side mirror and enjoyed seeing the satisfied look on his face disappear as it was replaced with sudden bewilderment. She saw him push up the front of his hat and scratch in his forehead in confusion and she glared at the reflection until finally a car passed between them, and he was gone for good.

    Therese knew she was being positively childish. Poor Arthur Williamson had no idea.

    Still, she was bitter. No. More like jealous.

    Not jealous because she was at all worried that the Arthur Williamson's of the world were going to get anywhere with Carol (Therese had many months of conclusive proof that Carol's loyalties lay… _elsewhere_ ), but she was jealous of the way these men could express themselves in public.

    Therese wanted to be the one to openly flirt with Carol as they browsed the book stalls. She wanted to be able to hold Carol's hand as they walked down 4th Avenue. She wanted to be able to kiss Carol over their morning coffee at their favorite breakfast spot. And mostly, she just wanted everyone else to know that Carol was hers, and that she was Carol's. If she was Arthur Williamson, she could do all those things. Therese Belivet on the other hand, could not.

    Carol was eyeing Therese concernedly as they drove down the avenue. "Dare I ask what that was all about?"

    "Nothing." Therese settled down lower into the seat and watched the buildings pass by out her window without really seeing.

    "Are you hungry? We could go for a late lunch somewhere."

    "No. Let's just go home." Therese could hear the coarse, flat tone of her voice and immediately felt bad. She slid her hand across the leather seat between them and opened it with her palm up.

    Carol took her hand and laced their fingers together, giving Therese a small, wary smile. They were quiet the rest of the way back to the apartment.

 

    When they were back inside, Therese quickly shrugged off her coat and hurried off into the kitchen, leaving Carol behind in the entryway. "I'll scrape something together for us to eat," she called back to her without looking.

    She didn't mean to be so short with Carol, and again, Therese felt badly about it. She needed to pull herself together. Day after day she swallowed these feelings, pushed them down and locked them away because in the end, there was nothing to be done. The world worked in one way, and Therese had to accept that she and Carol just didn't always fit. This wasn't news. But today for some reason, she was struggling to hold it in. She felt that if she looked into Carol's eyes right now she would burst. And she couldn't cry. She had to be strong for Carol; Carol who had her own dark clouds to battle with.

    She went into the icebox and pulled out an armful of random ingredients without any real consideration. She took a knife and a cutting board and started chopping and slicing with abandon. It felt good to wield the large, heavy knife and take out some of her frustrations out on the helpless vegetables. The sound of footsteps behind her told her Carol had entered the kitchen.

    "Care for a drink?"

     _Chop-chop-chop-chop-chop._ "Sure. Whatever you're having." She heard the clinking noises of ice cubes dropping into glass tumblers, then sloshing and ice cracking as the liquid was poured. Chop-chop-chop-chop-chop.

    A glass of amber liquid was set down next to her. "Therese, I do wish you would tell me what's wrong."

    _Chop-chop-chop-chop-chop._

    "I can tell something is the matter. Talk to me. I want to help."

     _Chop-chop-chop._

    "Therese."

     _Chop-chop-chop._

    "Therese, stop!" Carol had come up behind her and put her arms around her. Her hand gripped the top of Therese's, halting the furious knife-work.

    A tear splashed down onto the cutting board. The carrots she had been chopping were practically minced to a pulp. Therese let the knife fall from her hand, and her shoulders dropped.

    Carol let go of her hand. "Therese," she whispered. "Therese, look at me."

    Therese turned around in Carol's arms and slowly brought her gaze up to meet the searching, blue eyes.

    "Talk to me. Please."

    "It's nothing, really. I'm being ridiculous."

    "Is this about that man... Mr. Williamson? Because I'm sorry about that. I tried to shake him off, I just couldn't get rid of him. But surely Therese you know by now... I love _you_ , and I'm not at all interested in-"

    "No don't apologize," she interrupted. "It's not about him. I mean, it is, but not in that way." She took a deep, rattling breath. "It's just, everyone else gets to show how… they get to say, and do… I mean, when we're out there together, nobody knows, and I can't say anything and- and-." Therese couldn't find the right way to say exactly what she meant and she was choking and stumbling on the words as she tried to explain it to Carol.

    But Carol seemed to understand anyhow. She shook her head and whispered, "I know," as she pulled Therese in close. "I know it's not fair. I'm sorry. If I could change it Therese I would. I'd shout it from the balcony and I'd put it up on billboards and I would kiss you all over New York City."

    Therese smiled into Carol's shoulder. "I know you would, and I love you for it." She leaned back and ran her fingers into Carol's hair, pulling her into a kiss.

    "I'm sorry I've been acting such a mess," she said when they finally broke. "Let's just forget about all this. Why don't I cook something for real now?" She spun back around again and examined her handiwork on the counter. "I don't think there's any hope for these carrots though. Let's see… I could make some sandwiches. Or do you feel like chicken?"

    "Hang on," said Carol.

    "What? Craving something else?"

    "Yes." She took up Therese's hands so that they faced each other again. "And you're not going to find it in the icebox. Besides darling… I was under the impression that we had a little agreement."

    Therese cocked her head to the side, nonplussed.

    "I believe we said that _I_ get to pick the next activity for us today… and I've made my decision." She started walking backwards out of the kitchen, pulling Therese with her.

    Therese suddenly remembered what Carol was talking about and allowed herself to be led down the hall towards their bedroom. "Well, a deal is a deal I suppose."

 

    It was a long time before they emerged from the room again for a rather late dinner.

* * *

 

   Therese was curled up in an armchair in the living room, her latest crime novel propped on her knee and a blanket clutched around her shoulders in an attempt to ward away the persistent November chill. Every few minutes she would glance up at the clock on the mantel. Where was Carol? She was usually home by now, and she would always call if she was going to be late.

    At six o’clock Therese decided to light a fire. She was going to give Carol exactly ten more minutes before she started calling everyone they knew in the city.

    As she was crouched down in the hearth carefully stacking the logs, Therese finally heard the sound of a key scraping in the lock.

    “Darling?” Carol called from the entry.

    “In here." She lit the match and watched the flame race up the kindling and catch the logs. Carol's footsteps came up behind her.

    "Oh perfect, I'm absolutely chilled!"

    "I was starting to get worried about you. You didn't call," said Therese, standing up and turning around to greet Carol.

    There may have been an icy wind roaring outside, but Carol's flawless beauty never seemed to be affected by even the harshest weather. Standing before Therese, Carol looked elegant as ever in a heather-gray dress, not a single lock of golden hair out of place or the tiniest smudge to her favorite shade of red lipstick. Therese couldn't even find a hint of an unnatural flush across her cheeks or nose from the cold outside. She slid her arms around Carol's waste and gave her a long kiss.  

    "I'm sorry, angel," crooned Carol, nuzzling her nose against Therese's. "I was picking up a little present for you and the time completely got away from me."

    "A Christmas present? I didn't expect you to be getting your shopping done so early."

    Carol's face broke into a sly smile. "I didn't. This isn't for Christmas." She let go of Therese and picked up a small paper bag off the coffee table that Therese hadn't noticed yet. There was some kind of logo or store name on the front, but she couldn't make out the letters. "Turn around and close your eyes," instructed Carol.

    "Carol, what is-"

    "Turn around and close your eyes!"

    Therese did as she was told this time. She could hear the paper bag rustling behind her. "Well now I feel bad I don't have anything for you," she whined.

    "Nonsense. Anyway, I got something for myself too."

    Now she was really perplexed. She crossed her arms and wriggled impatiently in place.

    Carol's voice came from right behind her now. "Okay, just stand still for one more moment, and no peeking."

    Therese felt something small drop onto her chest, about level with her collar bones, and then slide down an inch or so. She couldn't tell through her sweater what it was or what it was made of. Then she felt Carol's hands fiddling with something at the back of her neck. _A necklace._

    "Alright, open them."

    Therese looked down and saw a little golden oval hanging just above her breast from a fine chain. At first sight, it looked to be solid gold, but as picked it up and brought it to her eyes for closer inspection, she saw it was covered with a beautiful pattern of intricately carved leaves and vines and braided chains and flower petals all woven around each other. She let out the breathe she'd been holding. "It's gorgeous," was all she could manage to say.

    "Click the latch."

    Therese turned it over in her hand and noticed a tiny clasp along the side. This was a locket. She slid the latch down and little disc broke open. From inside the frame, Carol's image gazed back at her, looking as gorgeous and wonderful as ever. "Oh Carol," she breathed. Her voice came out as barely a whisper.

    "I was thinking the other day, when we went to that book shop and you were so upset after-"

    "Carol," Therese interrupted her, "I told you to just forget about that. I was overreacting. You didn't have to go and-"

    "No, Therese. Let me just say this. You were right then. When we're out there and we have to pretend like we aren't us, it's hard. It's one of the hardest thing I ever have to do. But I thought with this," she pressed the locket against Therese's chest, "even if we can't tell anyone or show anyone, I'll get to be right there next to your heart the whole time."

    Therese's heart beat madly and she would've been surprised if Carol couldn't feel it with her hand resting on Therese's chest as it was. She was positively brimming with love and affection for this woman in front of her.

    "And see, I've got this one." Carol tapped the golden brooch that glittered upon the collar of her dress, and for the first time, Therese noticed that it wasn't one she recognized. From a small circle in the center, delicate leaves and vines swirled and twisted out and around in a handsome arrangement. Carol touched something on it and the inner circle swung open, revealing that the brooch too had a hidden frame. This time however, Therese's own face looked back at her.

    "Then at least we know," finished Carol, "wherever we are or whoever we're with, that we belong to each other."

    Therese laced her fingers into Carol's hands. "I don't think I tell you enough how wonderful you are."

    "Does that mean you like it?"

    "No. It means I love it. And I love you."

 

* * *

 

    "Harge, your mother is determined to keep her away from me. She's _our_ daughter, so you can just tell her…

    … no, it's _not_ the same…

    … well when will I get my time with her?...

    … dammit Harge. This isn't what we said. I thought we had gotten past…

    … Harge, stop yelling…

    … Harge… "  

    Carol slammed the phone into the receiver and slumped down onto the desk, cradling her forehead in her hands.

    Therese rose from where she'd been sitting across the room, listening intently to Carol talk on the phone, and dashed over to Carol's side. She put a comforting hand to her shoulder.

    Carol reached up and took the hand squeezed it. "They're not letting her come for Thanksgiving anymore," she croaked miserably.

    "Oh, Carol. How could he?" Beneath her hands she could feel Carol shaking, either from anger or sadness, or some combination of both more likely. Her heart ached for Carol's pain, and it ached more because she was helpless to fix it.

    The week had started so well with things looking as if they were finally getting brighter. Rindy had been allowed to come for her first visit to their apartment. Though Harge's driver had waited outside the building for the entirety of the near five hours she was there, it had still been the first time Carol had been able to see Rindy in her own home, and also without being under the watchful eye of either Harge or Harge's hawk-like mother.

    Then on top of that, Harge had called Carol the very next day and offered for Rindy to spend Thanksgiving day with her if she liked. Ever since, Carol had been in an especially gay mood, humming merrily to herself as she planned out all of Rindy's favorite dishes and filled every vase they owned with colorful fall flower arrangements. It would've been Carol's first holiday with Rindy in nearly a year. Now Harge had gone and taken it all back.

    "Come on." Therese tugged lightly on Carol's hand. "Let me draw you a nice hot bath."

    Carol didn't move for a long while but eventually she let out a shuddering sigh and nodded her head. Therese held her at the waste and half supported her weight as they walked back to the bedroom. She set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt to take off her shoes.

    "I can do it," mumbled Carol.

    "Alright." She stood up and brushed a tear track from Carol's cheek, and then kissed her there. "It'll be ready in five minutes."

    Carol came in to the bathroom a few minutes later in just her robe, and Therese helped her out of it and into the steaming water. She perched on the side of the tub and ran a warm washcloth over Carol's shoulders.

    "Come in with me?" Carol asked softly, after a few minutes.

    "Ok. Give me one moment to get out of these things." She got up to leave but Carol caught her hand and held her there.

    "Therese… I- I don't what I would do if you weren't here. I love you."

    "I love you too."

    Carol released her hand and gave her a tiniest, watery smile. Then she closed her eyes and sank a little deeper in the water.

    In the bedroom Therese swiftly undressed and slipped on her own robe. She noticed Carol had left her clothes in a puddle on the ground, out of character from her usual compulsive tidiness, and so she went to hang up the dress before it was hopelessly wrinkled. Something shiny on the collar caught the lamplight and glinted up at her. It was the beatiful golden brooch that Carol had procured along with her own locket. Therese clicked the clasp and the small hidden frame sprung open. Her own image smiled coyly back at her from one side; the other side was empty.

    "You coming?" Carol called out from the bath.

    "Be right there." she replied. She quickly unpinned the brooch and slipped it into her robe pocket before setting the dress to hang in the wardrobe and hurrying back to Carol

* * *

 

    Early the next morning, Carol and Therese were both busy readying themselves for the day. Therese sat on the end of the bed, pulling on a pair of stockings. Carol was at the vanity digging through her jewelry box.

    "Therese, did you put my brooch in here last night?"

    "No."

    "Oh. It must still be on the dress..."  Carol went to the wardrobe and pulled out her dress from the night before. "Therese... it's not here. Did you see it yesterday?"

    "Carol come here." Therese patted the bed next to her.

    "Hold on, I have to find it," she said distractedly. "Maybe it fell off on the ground somewhere... I know I was wearing it when I came-"

    "Carol, just come here for a minute."

    Carol stopped her examination of the floor and sat gingerly on the bed next to Therese, her eyebrows raised in a questioning look.

    "Here." Therese held out her fist and opened her fingers to show Carol the brooch sitting in her palm.

    "Oh, wherever did you find it?"

    "No, I took it last night. I'm sorry, I had to fix it."

    "What do you mean fix it?"

    "Open it." Therese nodded her head, inclining Carol to take it.

    Carol took the brooch hesitantly and slid down the latch. Therese's picture was still there, but there was also a new picture in the other frame. Carol lightly traced her finger around the delicate gold border. "My special girl," she breathed.

    Therese put an arm around her. "Carol, it’s not fair you can't be together for the holiday, or any time you like for that matter. And I know of course this isn't the same, but I just thought... well, this way you can keep part of her close too, even when she's far away."

    Carol was silent, and stared for a long time at the tiny images in her hands.  

    The lengthy silence started to worry Therese. Maybe this had been a terrible idea. "I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe I shouldn't have. It's probably too painful. I wasn't thinking."

    "No," Carol stopped her, and she looked up into Therese's eyes. "It's wonderful. You're wonderful. My two favorite people in the world."

    Therese let out relieved sigh. She cupped her hand to Carol's cheek. "It's going to get better someday, Carol. I know it is."

 

 

**Spring, 1956**

    Carol sat in the armchair in the living room, her feet propped up on the coffee table, chin resting lazily in her hand, and watched the two sleeping forms opposite her on the sofa. Their chests rose and fell in the same slow rhythm, and every time the little girl exhaled, her breathe ruffled the stray locks of hair that had fallen across Therese's cheek. Rindy's own dirty-blonde curls stuck out around her head, tangled and windswept from an afternoon chasing butterflies and who-knew-what-else in Central Park. They both were still wearing their coats, having evidently collapsed on the sofa and immediately fallen asleep out of exhaustion from the day's activities.

    Carol had come home from work to find them exactly as they were now, sprawled out, with Rindy nestled snugly into Therese's shoulder. The sight of it made her heart feel so full, it was an effort not to cry. Sometimes it was still so hard to believe that she got to have her two favorite people in the world, her greatest loves in life, together in the same place, and with her now for always.

    It had been almost a year now since Rindy had come to live with them full time. Carol had suffered through many months of only intermittent, supervised visits. Though the longing for her daughter during this time had never ceased, the pain became easier to bear once she no longer had to go through it alone. When the emotions would bubble forth, Therese would listen as she screamed and raged about the unfairness of it all, she would hold Carol and comfort her as she cried and cried until she had no more tears to spill, and she would whisper words of hope into Carol's ear that one day, things would be better. Carol wasn't sure she had ever really truly believed those words. She loved that Therese cared enough to say them, but she just couldn't imagine a world that would be so good to her. And yet, here they were. In so many ways, the younger woman was far, far wiser than she.

    For eventually it had seemed, the trials of single-parenthood proved a bigger responsibility than Harge was willing to commit to long term. He had his business travels and countless functions to attend; and then after some time, there even came a new woman in his life to entertain. The supervised visitations turned into weekly afternoon visits from Rindy at the Madison Avenue apartment, and these stretched into entire weekends, and then into even longer holidays and weeks long stays while Harge was away.

    When Harge had remarried, a war-widow named Irene, he had also taken in her two sons- twin boys who were a few years older than Rindy. Carol didn't know much about the woman or her sons, only that Rindy always wrinkled her nose whenever they were mentioned. But Harge, ever a man's man, had two strapping young boys now to dote on, to rough-house and play sports with, and to bring up in the family business. His attentiveness and possessiveness towards his daughter started to wane, and when Rindy asked to live with her 'real' mother, he relented without much resistance. However, Carol did have her suspicions that this had as much to do with lure of his new perfect family, as it did with the fact that with each passing day, Rindy grew more and more to look exactly like her mother. At seven years old now, she was Carol in perfect miniature.

    But if she was Carol in image, she was Therese in personality.

    During those early, afternoon visits, Rindy had approached Therese with wary interest. She seemed keenly aware that this woman had some sort of special connection to her mother, yet was equally unsure of what this should mean for her. Therese would hover nervously in the corners of rooms while Carol and Rindy played, despite Carol’s urging for her to come join them.

    "No, it's okay," she would say. "I just like watching. It's your time with her. I don't want to get in the way or make her uncomfortable." Carol didn't press her.

    Then one evening, Carol had been busy in the kitchen preparing dinner while Rindy was set up in at the dining table, quietly coloring. Therese's gentle piano playing drifted in from the living room. Carol was closely watching the pot on the stove, intently focused on continuously stirring the sauce she was making so it would thicken without burning. She didn't notice when Rindy got up from the table and pattered off into the other room. She didn't notice when the music stopped and then the song changed; first, three notes in simple repetition, and then a friendly melody layered in on the higher notes. In fact, Carol didn't notice anything was different until Rindy's squeal of excited giggles from the other room finally jarred her out of her daze.

    Still brandishing the wooden sauce spoon, Carol crept over to the kitchen door so she could peek out and see what was going on. A big smile came to her lips when she saw Therese and Rindy squeezed together on the piano bench. Rindy's face was alight with glee as she pressed a few keys down over and over, and Therese's practiced hands moved around hers, turning the simple notes into a song. Carol watched as Rindy inched over and made to scoot her way onto Therese's lap. Therese had looked surprised for a brief moment, but she just smiled and readjusted herself on the bench to allow Rindy to make the move. They looked so natural together, and Carol found she couldn’t look away. She leaned against the door frame and watched silently and happily for a long time. The sauce burned.

    Since then, there had been no more strangeness or apprehension between the two. In fact, Rindy became rather obsessed with Therese and in addition to begging the young woman to teach her piano, she wanted her included on everything they did. Therese was all too happy to oblige the little girl.

    When Rindy started staying nights, Carol would brush her hair and tuck her into bed and then she and Therese would squeeze in on either side of her so Therese could read the bedtime story. Rindy loved the way Therese would act out all the voices with great theatrics. Carol had tried to take a turn reading one night, but Rindy had abruptly taken the book from Carol's hands, handed it over to Therese, and declared matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I like when Therese does it better."

    Therese had to shove her fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing, but Carol just winked at her. "Well, I guess that's that."

    These trips to the park were just another addition in the little duo's many favorite activities together. Rindy had recently developed a spirited interest in insects, something Carol had the misfortune to discover as she was cleaning out Rindy's school bag one afternoon and unknowingly pulled out a jar that contained three very fat, black and blue beetles. Her immediate reaction was to shriek and drop the jar, which promptly shattered on the kitchen floor and released the big, creepy bugs into the room. She was stranded, standing on one of the kitchen chairs until Therese had rushed in to her rescue. She calmly scooped up the creatures with her hands and returned them to a fresh jar, though she didn't miss the opportunity to poke fun at Carol's distress over the "harmless, little things".

    So while Carol had no desire for future interactions with the creepy-crawly things, Therese had no problem, and even enjoyed, taking Rindy to scour trees and under rocks and around flower beds for insects to observe and collect. Carol could only hope lamely that Rindy would outgrow this particular fascination. However, it did warm her heart when Rindy would tell her admiringly about her adventures with Therese.

    Against all odds, it had actually started to feel to Carol like they were a real family. You certainly wouldn't find anyone that looked like them in any TV program or radio show or magazine picture; with their big, strong, businessman husbands, and their deeply devoted, obedient housewives, and their 2.5 perfect children. And yet, Carol felt they were a family nonetheless.

    

    Carol was still watching the two sleep on the sofa. It had been over forty minutes since she'd walked in the door and found them. She knew she should probably wake Rindy up or else the sprightly little girl would be wide awake at her bedtime, and they would never be able to get her to sleep at a decent hour. But she was also reluctant to disturb the peaceful scene in front of her.

    Carol deliberated on what to do and her hand went instinctively up to the brooch that was always pinned to her breast. She absentmindedly ran her fingers over the delicate golden leaves which disguised the little locket frame. She had opened it so many times to look at the two pictures inside that she'd already been forced to send the piece to the jeweler's once to replace the worn out hinge. She loved those pictures, her two favorite people in the world...

    She looked from the piece of the jewelry up to the real image of the two people across from her, and suddenly it occurred to Carol that she had overlooked something very important, and it would have to be fixed immediately. In fact, she was annoyed with herself that she hadn't thought of it sooner.

    She rose from the chair and edged over to the sofa as quietly as she could. She was glad to see the fine golden chain was hanging out of Therese's blouse and wouldn't be too difficult to steal from around her neck. She picked it up and tried to tug it around as lightly as she could so she could access the clasp, feeling grateful at this moment that Therese was such a sound sleeper.

    "Mommy, what are you doing to Therese's necklace?"

    She hadn't noticed Rindy stir, and the murmured question from the little girl made her jump.  

    "There's a part of it that needs fixed," she whispered back. "Want to help me?"

    Rindy nodded and carefully crawled over Therese and off the sofa.

    Carol took Rindy by the hand and they went over to the kitchen table in order to work on the necessary adjustments.  

    Therese woke a short while later as Carol was fastening the locket back around her neck. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and started to stretch and roll her shoulders and neck back and forth, squirming around under Carol's hands.

    "Hey, stop moving!" Carol chortled.

    "What's going on? Hey, what are you doing?"

    "We fixeded your necklace!" shouted Rindy, who was bouncing up and down by Therese's feet.

    " _Fixed_ , not fixeded, snowflake."

    "I'm confused. Did I break it?"

    Carol finished latching the clasp on the chain and went to sit beside Therese. She couldn't help but laugh a little at the sleepy, baffled expression on Therese's face. She pointed to the necklace. "Open it."

    Therese gave Carol an uncertain look, but when she unlatched the locket and her face immediately softened.

    Rindy came over and leaned on Therese's knees. "See now you've got me in there too, just like Mommy's pin."

    "Really?" Therese was looking at Carol and her lip was quivering. But it was joy, not sadness in her eyes.

    Carol nodded fervently back at her. "I'm sorry it took so long. I know how much she means to you, and you mean so much to her too Therese."

    Rindy tapped her fist on Therese's thigh, trying to regain her attention. "So, do you like it?" she asked.

    Therese pulled Rindy up into a bear hug. "Yes. It's the best thing ever."

    

    "Hey," said Rindy. She wiggled off Therese's lap and wedged herself right in between Carol and Therese. "Do I get a jewelry thing with picture spots too?" She moved her head back and forth between the two women, glaring questioningly.

    "You want one?" Carol asked her.

    "Yeah.” Rindy nodded seriously. "So I can put you two's pictures in it."

    Carol looked over to Therese who was beaming back at her over the top of Rindy's head. She reached behind Rindy and took Therese's hand and squeezed it.  

    "Well I think we might be able to arrange that, sweet pea. What do you say, Therese?"

    "Absolutely."


	2. The Things That Scare Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It has been quite a minute. I finished grad school and my keyboard and I needed a vacation from each other, and then life got wild, and then when I sat down to write again I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. So instead of working on Music Shop I went back to the beginning and I don't even know, this just sort of tumbled out. It's pretty much just a load of fluff, because I'm hopelessly sentimental haha.

**January 1954**

 

   The first thump woke Carol from her sleep. The second made her eyes shoot wide open. _Someone’s in the apartment._

   Her hand reached instinctively, protectively, for Therese in bed beside her, but it found only empty sheets. Blindfolded by darkness, she patted around Therese’s side of the bed for a moment, pressing her fingers into the mattress, as if she might discover her hiding just below the surface. 

   There was another sound, this time a rush of clacking and pinging like a loosed bag of marbles, followed by Therese’s huffed, “Damn!” 

   Carol quickly rolled over towards the sound and only then did she notice the band of light creeping out from behind the cracked bathroom door. She checked the clock on the bedside table. Well after midnight. 

   “Are you all right, darling?” she asked when she walked in a minute later, her voice low and raspy with sleep. 

   Therese was hunched over the sink, scooping scattered white pills back into the little glass bottle she held in her hand. She looked up at Carol with tired, heavy eyes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just— klutz, I knocked over the bottle. Nothing to worry, you should go back to bed.” 

   Carol shook her head, wrapping her robe more tightly around her shoulders against the nighttime chill in the apartment, and sat down on the bathtub's edge. “You’re not feeling well,” she said, inclining her head towards the aspirin bottle in Therese’s hand. It wasn’t a question.

   “My throat was feeling a little scratchy, I couldn’t sleep. I’m alright though.” 

   Carol narrowed her eyes. “How long has it been bothering you?” 

   “It’s not that bad, really.” Therese went back to picking up pills and Carol could tell she was deliberately avoiding her gaze. 

   “Therese.” 

   Therese sighed. “Since early this morning. Or I suppose it’s yesterday morning now.” 

   Carol clicked her tongue. “All day, you didn’t say anything?” 

   “Look, I wanted to have a nice normal Sunday with you, and that’s what we did. If I had said anything…” Therese paused, popping the last two of the spilt pills into her mouth and chasing them with a slug of water. “… you would have fussed over me all day and it wouldn’t have been any fun at all.” 

   Carol frowned, annoyed mostly because she knew it was true. If Therese had said something, she would have fretted about it. And she certainly would have objected to spending the day outside as they had.  

   They’d braved the cold that afternoon and gone to the park so Therese could take pictures of the ice skaters, and so she could try and capture the new blanket of snow while it was still fresh and unsullied, glittering in perfect silver and white swells like a newly frosted cake before it inevitably turned rough and muddy, studded with endless boot prints and toboggan tracks. Eventually, they wandered down a quiet path together and finding themselves alone and out of sight of other people, Therese had been able to set her camera up with a timer in order to get a picture of the two of them together. Carol had made her take several shots, unsatisfied each time with something or another, the way the wind was blowing her hair, or a certainty that she had blinked, until finally Therese had thrown her arms up in exasperation, grumbling on about the pictures being just fine and about how after five minutes straight of smiling they couldn’t possibly look natural anymore anyhow, as she stuffed the camera back in her bag.

   Under the sink in the second bathroom of the apartment, which Therese used as a darkroom, one could find stacks of photographs of Carol. Almost an embarrassing amount Carol thought, should anyone get a good look under there. There were some photos of Therese too, granted marginally less, from the few times Carol had taken up the camera. But they had so few of the two of them together, and Carol was eager to get these new ones developed. When they got back from the park there was only enough time to rest a moment and warm the icy chill from their noses and fingers with a cup of coffee before Carol was impatiently ushering Therese into the bathroom to get started. She happily played assistant all afternoon, following Therese's careful instructions on how and when to move each image from one bath to another. 

   And despite all her worrying at the park, they had in fact gotten a perfect photograph; Therese had been right about that too. Carol loved the one where Therese had slipped and slid in the snow one time as she dashed back from the camera. Carol had caught her in her arms before she fell, but it had sent them both into fit of giggles that went on well passed the shutter click. In the photo they clutched at each other, wearing broad smiles that made visible their peals of laughter, gazing at each other with shining eyes, seeing and understanding one another like only they did. Carol planned to put it on their mantel in the living room.

   But her favorite photo of the day had been the one where she stood behind Therese, her arms wrapped around her and her lips buried in her neck while Therese, her Therese, looked demurely on at the camera. Not suitable for the mantel perhaps, but she’d asked Therese to do a small one for her so she could keep it in her pocketbook. 

 

__ “Aww, don’t look like that,” said Therese. She came forward to where Carol was watching her from the tub and sat down sideways on her lap, wrapping her arms around Carol's neck. “Are you really mad at me for not telling you?” 

   “No,” she relented. “I was glad for today too. It was perfect.” She pressed a kiss on Therese’s cheek. “ _But_ I am worried about you. This thing with your throat, you’ve been having it a lot lately.” 

   Therese shrugged. “Oh come on, I wouldn’t say _a lot_.” 

   Carol started doing the math in her head. Therese had moved in officially last June. Since then she’d been sick, one, two, three…, “four times, Therese. Now this is five. In less than eight months.” 

   “It’s not like it’s ever been very serious. It goes away in a few days.” Therese rebutted. 

   “Well I know, but that still seems like an awful lot, don’t you—.” 

   “Carol, it’s fine. I’m fine. You know, it’s probably just all that stale air in the office messing with me. Full of dust and smoke and chemicals. And you couldn’t get those men in there to crack a window if the whole department was on fire. I’m sure that’s all it is. I’ll take more walks outside in the fresh air. That’ll do it. And I’ll try and get more sleep. You’re always on me about staying up too late reading anyway.” 

   Carol could feel Therese fingers, gently scratching into her hair at the nape of her neck. It felt nice, soothing, and Carol matched her pace unconsciously, running her hand back and forth on Therese’s thigh. “Maybe. But I think you should go see the doctor too. Just to make sure everything’s okay.” 

   She felt Therese’s fingers still at her neck. 

   “Carol, I’m fine. Seriously. It’s barely a tickle.” 

   “I’m sure it is, but it won’t hurt to get a professional opinion, and then—.” 

   “No.” 

   Carol swallowed, taken aback by this unexpected and sharp refusal. Therese got up from her lap and the cold air quickly seized Carol again in her absence.

   “I don’t need to see a doctor about this,” Therese finished. Her tone was odd and clipped. She went back to the open medicine cabinet and started pulling out bottles and rearranging them, and Carol was certain she was trying to avoid eye contact again. 

   “Therese, this is really the most ridiculous thing to be stubborn about,” said Carol, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I just want to be certain there’s nothing more serious going on, and the doctor will be able—.” 

   “Well it’s my decision, and I don’t want to!” Therese slammed the cabinet door shut, and the resulting bang paired with her shout left a look of surprise visible on both their faces as their reflections came into view on the mirrored cabinet face. It lingered their for a moment until Therese slid her eyes over to meet Carol’s in the mirror. “Okay?” 

   She shrugged off Carol’s hand and padded back into the bedroom, leaving Carol staring at her own rather defeated looking reflection. “Okay,” she answered back softly though Therese was already gone.

   Carol wasn’t sure what she was more of: mad at Therese for being so infuriatitingly stubborn, stung by the bite in Therese’s voice when she was only trying to help, or concerned because she had a prodding feeling that something deeper, beyond her present understanding, was contributing to Therese’s upset here. 

   When she came back into to the bedroom, Therese was already back under the covers, turned on her side so that her back was to Carol. Carol was sure she wasn’t asleep yet, but she didn’t say anything, too afraid to unintentionally stoke the peculiar flames any further. Silently, she slipped out of her robe and crawled into her side of the bed, moving slowly because she didn’t want to jostle Therese. When she was finally settled, her arm went up without thinking, moving to wrap itself around Therese’s middle as usual, but she stopped short, hovering uncertainly over Therese's form. She pulled back and touched Therese’s arm instead, just a small brief squeeze, hoping that this silent message would say enough. _I’m still here. But I’ll give you space if you need._

   Much to her surprise however, when she pulled away, Therese’s own hand shot back and caught hers. Without a word, she pulled Carol's arm around her middle, and pressed Carol’s hand to her chest.

   Confused, but not enough to reject the invitation for nearness, Carol took it without hesitation. She wriggled forward, pulling Therese into her body. “Darling, I’m sorry if I fuss too much. I just… I worry is all. I love you, and so I worry about you and I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

   Therese was silent for awhile and Carol feared perhaps she was just making it worse.  _ Shut up, Carol. Leave her alone.  _

__ But then Therese squeezed her hand, and slowly she turned over in Carol’s embrace so that they faced each other again. “Carol, you don’t ever have to apologize for that. For caring. For loving me. Not ever. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s my problem; I was taking it out on you.”  

   So there was something else going on. _What problem?_ “Will you… talk to me about it?” 

   Therese’s eyes searched her own for a moment before she finally whispered a small, “Okay.” She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling and then took a deep breath. “I, now don’t laugh, but I… I’m…” 

   Carol softly kissed her shoulder, another silent message she knew Therese would understand. _You can tell me anything_.

   “…scared,” Therese finally finished. 

   Carol didn’t understand. “Scared of…?” 

   Therese pressed her fingers to her eyes and groaned. “The doctor,” she murmured miserably. “God that sounds so stupid and childish. That’s why I got upset when you said earlier I was being ridiculous. Upset with myself because, well because it _is_ ridiculous, I know it is. But I… I just am.” Her voice cracked over the words.

   “Oh, Therese,” Carol breathed. Gently she pulled Therese’s hands from her eyes and cupped her jaw. “It’s not ridiculous. I’m sorry I ever said. I shouldn’t have kept pushing.” 

   Therese shook her head. “Don’t. You didn’t know. I don’t even really know… why, when it started, or if it’s always been like that. I just, I get panicked, and my heart starts racing and I feel sick to my stomach. It doesn’t matter what I tell myself. It’s completely irrational though.” 

   “Darling, the things that scare us, they aren’t always rational. That doesn’t make them any less scary,” Carol said, running her thumb across Therese’s cheek. But she could see in the green eyes before her that Therese was still not convinced. “I’m afraid of things too. I— sometimes I’m scared that, that Rindy will forget me.” 

   Therese’ s brows quickly knit together with concern. “What? No Carol, she loves you. She couldn’t. Would never.” 

   “I know that. I just always fear that one time, when he won’t let me see her for awhile, it’ll be too long. And then when I do, she’ll have grown and… and she’ll have forgotten me. See? Not rational.” She tried to laugh but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. It had hurt more than she realized to admit this truth out loud. Therese knew it too as she quickly pulled her in and held her close. Her grip was so impossibly, wonderfully strong, it coaxed a tear from Carol’s eye. She felt it roll down her cheek onto Therese’s shoulder. “Shit. I didn’t mean to start,” she mumbled. 

   Therese didn’t let go. She rubbed Carol’s back with steady, grounding strokes, and Carol ran her fingers through Therese’s hair. They lay tangled together like that, soothing each other, their breaths slowing and deepening in time together until Carol couldn’t tell which sounds were her own and which Therese’s. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Therese broke the quiet.

   “I’d do it for you,” she whispered. “See a doctor. If you really want me too.”  

   Carol kissed Therese on the forehead. Well if that wasn’t the bravest offer she’d ever received. 

   “You have enough on your mind without me adding to your worries just because of a stupid—.” 

   Carol cut her off. “Angel, I told you. It’s not stupid, or ridiculous, or any of those things. Tell you what though, let’s get you all better, and then if it happens again, we can call a doctor about this the next time.”

    Therese let out a long breath and pressed her forehead against Carol’s. “Thank you.” She lifted her hand and grazed her index finger along Carol’s lower lip. “I suppose I shouldn’t kiss you if I’m getting sick.” 

   “No I suppose you shouldn’t,” Carol replied before leaning in and pressing her lips to Therese’s.

* * *

   Carol had been on the same page of her book for nearly twenty minutes, the same page she’d first opened to. It was impossible to concentrate. She kept peeking over the top to look at Therese, who was sitting in the matching armchair opposite her. She looked so awfully pale, even with the warm glow the fire was casting on the room. Carol watched her take a sip of her tea. There was no mistaking the pained grimace as she swallowed, the grimace Carol knew Therese had been trying to hide from her all day.

   She was sure when Therese had been sick before it hadn’t taken this long for her to start getting better. And if anything, it seemed like Therese had been getting worse. 

   Their feet rested against each other on the ottoman between them, and Carol gently nudged Therese with her toe. “Darling?” 

   “Hmm?” Therese hummed back, not looking up from the fire. 

   “I was thinking, maybe it might be good if you stayed home from work tomorrow, rested.” She didn’t expect Therese to take to the idea, Carol knew she didn’t like missing work, and so she started preparing her arguments in her head, but they weren’t needed. 

   Therese turned to her and nodded wearily before wincing again as she swallowed. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.” 

   Carol replaced the silver marker between the pages of her book and tossed it aside, offering her hands for Therese to take. “My poor angel. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

* * *

   When Therese was still sleeping soundly by the time Carol had showered, dressed, and made breakfast in the morning, she knew she had been right to suggest the day off. As she brought a tray into the bedroom she saw the only move the other had made all morning was a short migration from her own side of the bed to the other once Carol had vacated it. Carol set the tray on the nightstand and sat down next to the raised bump under the down-comforter that marked Therese’s form, leaned in close and whispered her name into the shell of her ear. When Therese had opened her eyes, she teased, “What brings you to this side of town?”

   Therese hugged her arms around Carol’s pillow and nuzzled her face into it sleepily. “I woke up and you were gone, and this side smells like you.”

   “I wanted to let you sleep in. I made you some breakfast, you should really eat something,” Carol said, which only made Therese wrinkle her nose. “I have to go into work for a few hours but I’m coming back early.” Then she added, “It’s already settled,” before Therese could protest her taking off work too. Carol bent down and kissed her on the crown while carefully tucking the cover back in around her and instructing her to call for her at the furniture house if she needed absolutely anything.

   But Therese didn’t call, and the work day was fairly uneventful. Carol oversaw the delivery of some delicious new pieces she’d picked up at an estate sale the previous week, and other than a near accident with the movers and a beautiful old victorian writing desk, everything went smoothly. She decided she had enough extra time to detour on her way home for something special for Therese.

   The apartment was quiet when she came in, and she soon came upon Therese asleep on the living room sofa, burrowed in a cocoon of blankets. Her hair was mussed around her forehead. Her mouth hung open just a little as she breathed low and steady. She’d fallen asleep with the record player on. It whirred softly, continuing to spin though the record had probably long since played out. Carol clicked it off before she knelt down beside Therese. She touched her forehead and clenched her jaw at the warmth she felt, hoping that wasn’t a fever setting in.

   Therese’s eyes fluttered open as Carol’s fingers brushed along her brow. “Hi,” she croaked, giving Carol a small, sleepy smile that interrupted when she swallowed painfully again. “That was fast. I thought you were going to be a few hours.” 

   “It has been a few hours. It’s after two now.” 

   “Oh. I must’ve been asleep for longer than I thought.” 

   “I brought you soup from that place you like,” said Carol, holding up the brown bag she was carrying for Therese to see, pleased at the way her face brightened at the sight of it. 

   “Sullivan’s? But it’s way out of your way.” 

   “I’d go all the way to California and back just to get you soup if I knew it was your favorite. Let me go warm it back up a little for you.” 

   “Thanks. You know, I think I’m already feeling better?” Therese called after her, as Carol made her way to the kitchen. She would try to believe that.

   She brought Therese a tray and a healthy serving of the soup, but after a while she could tell Therese was only trying to make a polite show of eating for her benefit. It was clear she wasn’t having a good time of it, and every time she she swallowed and made that awful face it was like someone was sticking a pin in Carol too. 

   “Thank you. It really is my favorite,” Therese flashed her a tight smile, but Carol had noticed how she was merely swirling her spoon around in the broth, seemingly stealing herself to take another bite. 

   “Darling, maybe you should go lie down again. You can have more later.” 

   Therese sighed and nodded gratefully, letting her spoon drop in the bowl with a loud ping. She slumped back heavily against the sofa cushions, pulling the blankets round her once more. 

   “You’ll get better rest in a real bed you know,” offered Carol. 

   Therese pushed out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “It’s lonesome in there all by myself. Especially when I know you’re in here. And you look so lovely.” She poked a hand out from between the blankets and wiggled a finger at Carol.

   Carol looked down at herself. The old apron tied round her waist had a big brown splatter of soup on it, and she was sure her face and hair were a mess. She hadn’t looked in a mirror since she’d been outside in the frost and wind. She chuckled a little and bent down to feel Therese's forehead again. “Now I know you must be getting a fever because you’re sounding a little loopy.” 

   Therese frowned, and when Carol tried to pull her hand away she reached out and caught Carol’s wrist, holding her there. “I'm not _loopy_. You always look beautiful. I always want to be in whatever room you’re in.” 

   Carol felt a little warmth rise around her collar. All this time and Therese could still make her blush.

   “Well,” she said, as she untied the apron and laid it on the tray; the dishes could wait. “I was thinking I could go for a bit of a lie down myself. Suppose I go in there with you and then you can’t possibly be lonesome, how’s that?”

   Therese smiled, a genuine grin this time, and by the time Carol had changed from her work clothes into something more comfortable, she was curled up in their bed already half asleep. 

   Carol sat down beside her and brushed a few brunette locks away from Therese’s face. At this Therese opened one eye peered up at her. “I thought you were going to lie down too,” she said. 

   “I am, but open up first.” Carol brought the little glass thermometer she was holding up to Therese’s mouth and slipped it between her lips when they parted in surprise. 

   Therese sat up in the bed. “On’t you hink his is going a ittle owerwoard?” she grumbled thickly over the instrument which bounced up and down as she spoke. 

   Carol put a hand under Therese’s chin and closed her jaw with a firm, “No. You feel warm to me. Now if you would kindly stop complaining and keep that under your tongue for a few minutes. It doesn’t work when you talk.”

   Therese pulled the thermometer out of her mouth and stuck her tongue out at Carol before popping it back in. Carol smirked and returned the gesture. She laid back next to Therese, who rested her head against Carol’s shoulder and laced their fingers together while they waited.

   “One hundred,” Carol announced three minutes later, squinting her eyes at the thin thread of mercury. 

   “See? That’s hardly anything. It’ll break,” Therese replied coolly. 

   Carol bit back her retort. She knew it was Therese’s doctor anxiety and not naiveté that was bringing on this show of nonchalance. 

   Therese turned into her, laying her head on Carol’s chest and slipping an arm around her waist. “Would you read to me for a bit?” she asked, her eyes already closed.  

   It was something they did occasionally, read aloud. First at Therese’s request, and Carol had felt a little foolish then, in the beginning. But soon she found she quite liked it too. Therese lying with her head in her lap, her eyes closed and the tiniest of smiles on her face as she listened. Carol would play with her hair as she read. And it felt like time could go on forever like that. Not in the slow, painful way time can drag on, like being stuck a traffic jam that won’t move, or waiting for a phone call you aren’t ever sure is coming. It was blissfully forever; like an endless supply of your favorite dessert, never getting full, never getting sick of the taste.

   “What would you like to hear?”  

   “Oh, anything,” murmured Therese. “A magazine if you like, or whatever book you’ve been reading, it doesn’t matter. I just like the sound of your voice.” 

   Therese didn’t look like she had any intention of moving to allow Carol to actually get up and get a book, but there was a magazine on her nightstand just at arm’s length so Carol grabbed it and flipped to the first story. 

   She didn’t remember falling asleep. But they must’ve been out for awhile because when she woke, the sky was already a dark, inky blue outside the window. Carol realized she was also oddly very warm. Her chest felt damp with sweat and she pulled at the front of her sweater which clung to her uncomfortably, her arm brushing against Therese. In her drowsy state it took her a minute to realize that Therese was in fact the thing that was making her so hot. Still lying half on top of her, Therese was like a furnace against her. Carol touched her forehead with her hand and immediately hissed at the heat she felt.

   “Therese, you’re burning up!” Carol immediately moved to extricate herself from underneath her. “Come on darling, sit up for me,” she pleaded, but Therese remained out of it as Carol propped her up against the pillows. She made a strangled mewling noise and muttered something that may have been Carol’s name.

   This time when Carol pulled the thermometer from her lips it read one hundred and three. Carol bit down on her bottom lip as real worry began to set in.

   She cupped Therese’s hot cheek, and the brunette whimpered, coming to. Her hand moved to her throat, scratching at it as if trying to touch the source of the pain. “It really hurts now,” she squeaked. 

   Carol felt helpless. She didn’t know how to make it better anymore and she whispered her apologies to Therese. They couldn’t wait any longer, she needed a doctor. 

   Therese’s eyelids flickered, and she looked in such a daze that Carol wasn’t even sure she had understood. But Therese’s hand, the one that lay on Carol’s knee beside her tightened, the fingers and nails pressing into the flesh. 

   “I know, darling,” Carol whispered, bending close to Therese’s ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise.”   

* * *

   Carol was surprised when she heard the buzzer sound; Dr. Taylor had said it would be at least an hour, maybe two, before he could make it to the Madison Avenue apartment and it hadn’t been nearly that long yet. But she hurried for the door anyway.    

   Abby’s smile was bright when Carol opened it. “Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t call but I was in the neighborhood and I thought you both might fancy a drink—.” Her grin quickly faltered. “What’s wrong?” 

   “How did you know something was wrong?” Carol asked, pulling her into the apartment and closing the door behind them. 

   “Just your expression,” Abby shrugged. She reached up and grabbed an errant blonde curl from the top of Carol's head and brought it back down to the correct side, tucking it into place. “So what is it? Don’t tell me it's Harge? You know I’ve got a few choice words I’ve been saving for that piece of—.”  

   “It’s Therese. She’s really ill. I’m sorry you came all the way up for nothing, but I’m waiting on the doctor. I thought you were him when you rang.”

   But Abby was already kicking off her pumps and hanging her coat on the hook. “What can I do to help?” she asked, and then answered herself before Carol could manage a reply. “How about I make some coffee. You look like you could use a cup.” 

   “Abby really, you don’t have to. You wanted to do something fun tonight.” 

   “Oh, forget it. Besides, it’s an icebox out there, I’m half frozen already. I’ll probably start losing toes if I go back out.” 

   When Carol continued to stand where she was Abby shooed her with her hands. “Well go on. Go take care of Therese, I’ll bring it in to you when it’s ready.” 

   Carol grabbed her hand and squeezed it gratefully before she turned back for the bedroom. 

   She'd almost forgot Abby was there until a steaming cup on a saucer was slid onto the bedside table next to her. 

   “She doesn’t look so good,” said Abby, peering at Therese over Carol’s shoulder. “Poor thing. What’s does she have?” 

   Therese seemed to have fallen into a half-sleep, drifting in and out of cognizance. Her eyes were closed but she whimpered fitfully as Carol ran a cool, damp cloth along her brow. “I don’t know, it was just a sore throat but it's just gotten worse and worse. Ugh, where is that bloody doctor,” she growled. 

   Carol could hear Abby rustling around behind her she turned to see what her friend was up to now. Abby had taken one of the two chairs from the dressing table Carol shared with Therese and dragged it into the corner against the wall. 

   “What are you doing?”

   “Making it look a little less like two women share this bedroom together,” Abby replied matter-of-factly. She paused with a pair of Therese’s shoes in her hand and her robe slung over her arm and looked at Carol. “Unless you know this doctor well enough that you think he won’t ask questions?” 

   Carol felt her shoulders fall with understanding. “No.” She quickly turned back to Therese. Abby was right of course. She was inviting in a relative stranger, one who couldn’t very well be trusted to mind his own business. But Carol couldn’t stand to watch it either— Abby putting Therese’s things away. _Hiding in my own home. Our home._ It was supposed to be their one safe place. A refuge where they could be wholly themselves. Carol felt a hot sting behind her eyes at the indignity of it.

* * *

   Carol’s hopes that some warmth in personality from the doctor would help put Therese at ease were quickly dashed upon his arrival. Dr. Taylor didn’t seem particularly pleased about having to make the house call. He returned her greetings with a curt nod before thrusting his medical bag into her hands so he could remove his snow dusted hat, coat, and scarf. He waved away Abby’s offer of coffee grumbling something about his wife, and a pot roast, and his intention to be home soon. Taking his bag again, he looked at Carol expectantly through thick, wire-rimmed spectacles. “So, where is the patient?”

   “Uh, right this way. She’s in ou—,” Carol caught herself, “ _ my _ bedroom.” She hovered nervously beside Dr. Taylor until he finally shooed her off at the bedside. 

   “Miss Aird, _please_ ,” he scolded, waving her back a few feet. “A little room, thank you.” 

   At odds with her worry over Therese’s condition, it was some strange relief that in her state she didn’t seem too aware of the doctor there, prodding at her, pressing his fat fingers under her jaw, and looking down her throat all the while hemming and hawing under his breath. Nor did she seem aware when he pulled a new needle and a small, clear vile from his bag, but Carol inhaled sharply. 

   “What’s that? What’s the matter with her?” 

   “It’s all right Miss Aird, she’s going to be fine,” the Dr. Taylor contended. His words had a flat, practiced quality, like he said them to all his patients in just the same way. “This is just a dose of antibiotics. That’s a pretty bad infection she has. She really should have been seen much sooner.” 

   Carol felt a lump the size of an orange rise in her throat. This was her fault. She thought she was doing the right thing; she had only wanted to protect Therese, keep her from being scared, keep her from hurting. But running away from it had only made it worse, and Therese was hurt anyhow. She watched the needle plunge into Therese’s limp arm. 

   She was pulled from her self-scorn as Dr. Taylor tore a slip of paper from his pad and handed it to her. “She should sleep through the night now but you’ll need to fill this prescription for more antibiotics. Follow the instructions for dosage,” he said in the same flat, detached way. “In a few weeks when the infection has cleared, call my office and we can arrange to have the tonsils removed.” 

   She felt her heart skip in alarm. “I’m sorry? R-removed?” 

   Dr. Taylor did not look as her he carefully replaced his supplied in his bag. “Yes, well if these occurrences are as common as you stated on the phone, she’ll need them out. Otherwise this will just keep happening I’m afraid.” He snapped the bag shut and finally turned to address her directly. “You’ll find my bill in the mail. Good evening Miss Aird.” 

 

* * *

 

**February 1954**

 

Therese had hardly spoken a word to Carol all evening, her nervousness about the next days events creating a palpable tension in the apartment through which Carol was unsure how to navigate. All her attempts to lighten the mood or otherwise take Therese’s mind off things had been thus far met with cool dismissal. And though she hadn’t taken this personally, Carol did not like the unsettling feeling of distance, of knowing Therese was in distress and being unable to reach her. She could feel a wall erected between them as really as if someone had actually laid the brick and mortar line down the center of the bed where they both sat now in silence. 

   She chanced a sideways glance at Therese who had a magazine in front of her, but her eyes only stared blankly at one spot on the page, her clenched jaw working side to side as she ground her teeth. Carol lit a cigarette.

   “We should go to Vermont,” Therese said suddenly.

   Carol chuckled as she stubbed out the end of her cigarette, amused and little perplexed by this random proposal, but nonetheless grateful that it had burst the bubble of strained silence. “And why Vermont?” 

   Therese set her magazine down in her lap. “You’ve talked about teaching me to ski before. There’s an article in here about the cutest little ski village in Vermont,” she said, flapping the pages. 

   If Carol could’ve chosen a destination herself she might’ve picked somewhere warmer, where they could take a break from this year’s intense winter freeze. But a trip with Therese would be nice wherever they went, and she was just pleased to hear Therese talk excitedly about something, anything, after being so taciturn all day. “All right. We could go next month if you like,” she offered. 

  “Let’s go tomorrow!” Therese blurted. “We’ll just… do it. Leave.” 

   Carol laughed again, but wavered when Therese did not join in on it and continued to look intently at her. Then she further surprised Carol as she swooped over and closed the gap between them, and suddenly Therese was straddling her lap. She ran her fingers into Carol’s hair and held the sides of her head. “I’m serious. Let’s just go; be spontaneous. It’ll be romantic.” She pulled Carol up to meet her lips and kissed her hard.

   Carol was so hungry for the closeness that it was difficult to pull away. But she did, just enough so she could look into Therese’s eyes, and behind the wild look Therese was giving her she could see the desperate plea in them. “Therese,” she whispered. “You know we can’t traipse off to Vermont tomorrow. You can’t run away from it.” 

   “But I can have the surgery any old—.” 

   “Therese,” she said again, even more gently. 

   Therese dropped her chin, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m being such a baby about this.” 

   Carol slid her hands up from Therese’s thighs to wrap around her and pull her into a tight embrace. She was feeling that helpless feeling again. All she wanted to do was to tell her everything was going to be okay, but that would be a lie. She couldn’t promise that, not really. 

   “I just wish you could be there with me,” Therese mumbled into her shoulder. 

   “Me too, darling.” 

* * *

   “Agh!” Carol yelped and brought her finger up to her eyes to inspect where she had just jabbed herself once more with the needle. A tiny prick of red had begun to blossom at the surface and she quickly pressed it to her lips, before it fell onto the white cotton of the bunny suit she was sewing— Rindy’s costume for her spring play. The little girl had called just the week before to tell her mother all about the part and to ask if Carol could make the costume and then come see her in the play in a few weeks. Carol had been so over the moon after she’d hung up, she'd cried happy tears for twenty minutes before Therese had the sense to put a glass of whiskey in her hands to calm her nerves.

   Her many fears about the precarious nature of the relationship she currently maintained with her daughter had been stoked by recently acquired knowledge of a new romantic interest in Harge’s life. This alone was not necessarily cause for alarm. There had been other women before, both before and after the divorce. But unlike the rest, this woman, she was a mother too. A widow, with two boys of her own. 

   Carol had always been able to help assuage some of her darkest fears by convincing herself that as bad as things were between herself and Harge, he would still need her around for Rindy. There were just some things a growing girl needed a mother for, things that Harge alone could not provide for her. And the women he dated, they weren’t the kind of women that could take on that role. They weren’t the kind of women that you married, the kind you shared your children with. 

   But this new woman, she _was_ a mother already. She could do all the things that were Carol’s to do, and Carol's fear of this was suffocating. She wasn’t needed anymore. She could be cut out with neat and tidy edges, and Carol felt herself slowly falling away. 

   But then Rindy had called, plucking her out of a dark abyss where she no longer mattered. Rindy wanted her own mother to make the costume. It was important to her that Carol be at her play. It mattered. She mattered.

   However, just now Carol set her sewing aside. She couldn’t concentrate right, and that was about the dozenth time she’d stabbed herself with the needle. She just kept seeing Therese’s terrified face as the nurse had led her away, her eyes wide, jaw set tight. 

   The minutes crawled by. People drifted in and out of the waiting room that smelled of iodine and burnt coffee. 

   Finally, finally, a nurse called her over to the desk to bring her relief. It had all gone fine of course; Therese was resting.   The nurse patted Carol’s hand reassuringly across the dark polished desktop. “Go home, get some sleep too Miss Aird. We’ll watch her for awhile and will call you when she’s ready to go home.” 

   Carol recoiled, pulling her hand away from the nurse’s cool fingers. “No, I— can’t I see her now? I’d like to be there when she wakes up.” 

   “I’m sorry hon’, it’s not visiting hours. But she’ll be just fine, I promise. We’ll take good care of her.” She tapped her stack of papers on the desk on with a sharp click of finality.

   “Please?” Carol implored her. “She’s scared. She doesn’t like doctors, hospitals. I don’t want to leave her alone.” 

   The nurse gave her a half-hearted smile that Carol presumed was supposed to be comforting. “I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing I can do. The only exceptions are in very serious cases, and even then, only for immediate family… a mother, or child, or spouse—.” 

   “I am her family!” 

   The nurse’s eyes got wide at this burst, and Carol blushed. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. “We’re… well that is, she doesn’t have… I am her only family.” 

   The nurse placed a hand on Carol’s again. She wished she would stop doing that. “Miss Aird, please. This was a very simple procedure, and Miss Belivet is in good hands. Go home.” Then as if to finally dismiss her, she peered around Carol and began to address the woman in line behind her instead. 

   Before she could do more than say _how can I help you_ however, Carol had sidestepped back into her view. “Please—,” she glanced down at the name tag carefully pinned to the nurse's crisp white lapel, “ _Jane_. Help me. What can I do to convince you?”

* * *

   When Therese opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the sickly pale green color of the ceiling and walls, and it was only then that she realized she was not in her bed at home. _I’m in a hospital. I had my tonsils out,_ she reminded herself. She stared for another minute at the ugly expanse of green. _Why did they choose this awful shade? Is it supposed to be relaxing?_

_    I want to go home.  _

Tentatively, she tried to swallow. The pain wasn’t terribly acute but it was like trying to swallow down a bowling ball. And her mouth was so dry. _Water_. 

   She lifted her head in search of a drink and that’s when Therese saw her. Slumped over the side of the hospital bed, her head by Therese’s knees. Carol was asleep. Her long, dark lashes were just visible behind the tangle of blonde curls splayed out around her face. Her bottom lip quivered just ever so slightly in her sleep, the way Therese had come to know it always did, awake in those quiet dusky hours of early morning or the in moonlit dead of night when she would watch the beautiful being in bed beside her until sleep came and collected her once again. Even in this ugly green room, she was still the most beautiful thing Therese had ever seen. 

   Carol had laid her heavy fur coat over Therese, covering her from the waste down. She had one of the thin hospital blankets draped over own shoulders. Therese wondered how long she’d been there. She noticed one of Carol’s arms was outstretched, her fingers inches from Therese’s hand like she’d fallen asleep holding it and Therese slid her own over to meet them again. 

   Carol stirred at the contact, drawing in a long, deep breathe. She blinked several times with sleepy, hooded eyes until the blue of them caught on Therese looking back at her and she immediately jerked upright, her fingers locking into a firmer clasp of Therese’s hand. A smile crept across her face, spreading itself over her red lips and into the little crinkled lines around her eyes; Therese loved those lines. “Hi, my angel,” she said. 

* * *

**Summer 1961**

   Therese glanced back at Carol as she crept away from their bed in the murky darkness. The window was wide open, a hopeful invitation for a breeze that had not come and the open curtains which framed it remained woefully still. Because they hadn’t drawn them shut, a muddled mix of moonlight and streetlamp glow fell upon Carol's slumbering form, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life. How she could possibly sleep so soundly in this sweltering heat was beyond Therese, who tiptoed carefully out of the room. 

   She didn’t bother with the lights in the hall or the kitchen, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. She groaned a little in pleasure, unable to help herself, as she pulled open the freezer door and pushed her face inside and let the icy air roll out and over her chest. 

   “Hey, T.” 

   Therese nearly knocked the door against the side of her head as she jumped in surprise, spinning around to spy through the gloom the girl sitting at the kitchen table whom she had not noticed before. She clutched at the front of her pajama shirt where her heart was now hammering. 

   “Rin! Christ, you scared me. Honey, what are you doing sitting out here in the dark?” Therese flicked the switch for the light that hung over the table and both she and Rindy blinked and squinted at the sudden brightness. 

   “I didn’t want to wake either of you up. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d make some warm milk to help me, but it’s too hot for it.” 

   “I’d say so. How about a popsicle instead? I know I could go for one.” 

   Rindy grinned. “It’s like 2am. You don’t think Mom will mind?” 

   Therese opened the freezer again and pulled two popsicles from the box. “Your mother is somehow still sound asleep. We on the other hand are two women in crisis. And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Therese added with a wink, holding them out for Rindy to choose first. “Red or orange?”

   Rindy picked the red one. Therese sat down at the table with her and savored the feeling of the cold ice on her tongue and lips. She noticed Rindy’s eyes following her. She had the exact same pensive, worried look that Therese had seen on her mother many times. 

   “What’s wrong, cutie?” Therese asked. 

   Rindy chewed on her lip for a moment, her eyes still pinned. “Do you ever get scared about stuff, T.? I mean like, stupid stuff that you shouldn’t be scared of but you are anyway?” 

   A chunk of popsicle had just broken off in Therese’s mouth and all she could do was nod at the girl while it melted until finally she was able to swallow. “Sure I do.” 

   “Like?” Rindy urged.

   Therese was curious where this was going, but she tried to answer as best she could. “Hmm like… like I’m scared of sharks at the beach even though I’ve only been a few times, and I don’t even know anyone that has seen a shark before. So that’s pretty silly. And… I still get scared about showing my photographs to people sometimes, even though it’s my job. Um, let’s see… doctors—.” 

   “You’re scared of _doctors_?” Rindy interrupted her incredulously. “But they’re the good guys.” 

   “I know,” Therese shrugged. “I know that and I still get scared. I can’t explain it. One time I even got really sick because I was too scared to go, and then it was even worse because I had to have my tonsils out in the hospital.” 

   “Were you super afraid?” Rindy paused to lick the bright red juice that had begun to drip down her fingers. 

   Therese nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah. But your Mom helped me out. She was there when I woke up so I wouldn’t be so much. They weren’t going to let her see me so she fought her way through a whole band of nurses and doctors just to see me. Broke one man’s front teeth clean out with her bare knuckles!” 

   Rindy giggled, “She did not!” 

   Therese smiled back at her. “No, I think she just slipped one of the nurses some money. But I like my story better. Anyway, why do you ask?” 

   Rindy chewed on her lip again. “Well, I wasn’t awake just because of the heat. I was reading this book before I went to bed and… and it really freaked me out.” 

   “Do you want to tell me about it?” 

   Rindy looked sheepishly down at the table. “There was this creepy house that was haunted… and these ghosts and… I mean I know it’s a only a stupid made up story. But then I kept hearing these noises in my room and I couldn’t close my eyes in there. And I don’t even believe in that stuff, not really… but it’s just…” She gave a shudder like an ice cube had just run down her back. 

   In her head Therese could see the memory of Carol beside her in bed, reassuring her, as she repeated the sentiments to Rindy. “I understand. Sometimes the things scare us the most don’t make a whole lot of sense. Doctors, make believe haunted houses. Even if we know they don’t make sense, they’re still scary. And it’s okay to say your scared, Rin.” 

   “Yeah okay. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fall asleep tonight.” 

   Therese got up and collected their empty popsicle sticks and tossed them away before offering Rindy her hand. “Come on, cutie. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. If any ghosts come along I’ll knock out their front teeth with my bare knuckles!” 

   The twelve year old, with her mop of sandy blonde hair, features in perfect likeness of her mother, closed her eyes as a look of relief washed over her. “Thanks, T.” 

   As Therese settled down in the bed next to her, she watched as Rindy’s soft lacy curtains kick up against the window, fluttering with a blessing of a breeze that had finally arrived. 

   “Tell me another story about you and Mom,” Rindy whispered. 

   “All right… have we ever told you the one about the time we got the car stuck in the mud during a rainstorm and we were stranded on a deserted road?” 

   “Only about a hundred times.” 

   “Oh.” 

   “Tell it to me again.” 

   Therese smiled in the dark. “Okay,” she said in a hushed voice, “It goes like this…” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who've been or still are curious about my other fic, Music Shop, I can't make promises about how soon it will be, but I am trying to get back into the groove of it because I absolutely do want to continue that story.


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